


Winter Wonderland

by vaqabond



Category: Grandview University
Genre: Christmas, M/M, Sled racing, Snow, Sven takes Flynn to Alaska and gives him a tour before fucking literally Everything up, Vacation, its ok tho cos he has cute dogs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-08-29 02:04:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16734948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaqabond/pseuds/vaqabond
Summary: Sven takes Flynn to visit his family in Alaska for Christmas. They take a tour of the wilderness on Sven's dog sled, but find themselves lost.





	1. Chapter 1

Sven and Flynn were huddled together like a couple of lost dumbasses in the snow. Actually, scratch that-- they were a couple of lost dumbasses in the snow. They were lost, and cold, and incredibly wet. (The bad kind of wet, not the fun kind, sadly.) Sven felt guilty, and Flynn… Well, Sven didn’t know what Flynn felt, but it couldn’t have been anything good. On the plus side, they had a lot of cute dogs to keep them company! Though at this point in time, the dogs gave them little solace.

 

Their incredibly stupid journey started when Sven asked Flynn to accompany him to Alaska for Christmas. At the time, it sounded like an amazing idea. Sven could show Flynn to his family, he could experience his mother’s cooking again, and he could cuddle Flynn underneath some blankets and shield themselves from the incredibly cold curse of Alaska. And for the most part, the two of them were able to complete most of the items on the list. Sven introduced his boyfriend to the Begayes at dinnertime whilst they feasted on delicious venison, rabbit, and mash potatoes. More than enough cuddling had occurred on the trip, too; Flynn was naturally unaccustomed to the subzero temperatures and was almost always wearing multiple jackets and sticking by Sven’s side, much to the joy of his boyfriend. Sven, on the other hand, had no such excuse. The man was born and raised in Alaska, yet he shivered almost as much as Flynn. One might conclude that he had just gotten used to the California winters of 60 degrees Fahrenheit, but that wasn’t the whole truth either. The man was simply chilled in every location, regardless of temperature. This wasn’t too bad, though; it only gave him more reason to stay in bed in the mornings or huddle with Flynn for longer periods of time.

 

While these aspects of his winter vacation were amazing, Sven was more excited to show Flynn his favorite sport: dog sledding. The village they resided in specialized in breeding sled dogs, and many breeders allowed visitors to rent dogs and sleds if they didn’t have any of their own. This information wasn’t useful to Sven, however, as he and his family had raised their own dogs for racing. Sven’s father was famous for his career in sled racing and even competed in the Iditarod one year. His passion for the sport left an impact on his son, so most of Sven’s childhood consisted of caring for the numerous huskies and other breeds.

 

Three hours before becoming lost in Alaskan hell, Sven brought Flynn back behind the house and showed him how to hook up the dogs to the sled.

 

“Alright, can you grab Kilo for me? He’s the one rolling around in the snow.” Sven motioned towards the most energetic dog of the pack of eight.

 

Flynn hopped over to Kilo, hoping the extra motion in his step would help warm him up. “Oh, what a pretty boy! So handsome! A baby!” He leaned down and gave the dog a few pats, before grabbing him by the collar and taking him to Sven.

 

“Not as pretty as me, I hope?” Sven joked in response. He began slipping the harness over Kilo’s head, placing him at the front of the running order. “Grab me another dog, will you?” he asked as he fastened Kilo in.

 

“Oh, but Kilo has such pretty eyes, I don’t know if your gorgeous greens can compare,” flirted Flynn as he grabbed a second dog, this one having a much darker coat compared to Kilo’s light brown. Again, Sven slipped the harness over the dog’s body and secured her in. Again, Sven asked for another dog. And again, Flynn brought him another. As the two worked, they conversed.

 

“Kilo might have the eyes, but does he have the personality?” asked Sven with a smile.

 

“He likes belly pats and rolling around in the snow, I like to think he’s perfect.”

 

“But can he hug you? Hold you?”

 

“He can try!”

 

“But does he tell you how much he loves you?”

 

Flynn stopped and thought for a moment. “Not as much as you do,” he purred, “but he certainly knows that actions speak louder than words.” At the close of his sentence, Flynn stopped working and made a kissy face towards Sven who, of course, took that as an opening to give his boyfriend a sweet kiss. Sven waddled to him, legs cold and stiff from squatting for so long, and embraced his love tenderly.

 

Before things could get too spicy, Flynn dumped a handful of snow into Sven’s jacket. Sven jumped backward and clawed hopelessly at his back in response.

 

“You dick!” the taller man accused between laughs. “It’s fucking cold!”

 

Flynn giggled and hopped onto the front of the sled beside the bags of supplies. “I love you,” he cooed with a shit-eating grin.

 

Sven did the best he could to get the snow out of his clothes, but small particles would remain until they melted. He stepped onto the back of the dog sled and took hold of the handles. “You’re lucky I love you,” he replied with a sly smile. “You ready?”

 

“Yes! I am! Let’s go!” Flynn yelled in excitement, extending his arm forward and pointing to the trail that lay in front of them.

 

“Line out!” Sven called to the dogs. At his command, the dogs lined up in preparation to move.

 

“Hike!” Immediately, the team began accelerating the sled forward and away from the village. The icy air felt like needles as their speed increased, small snowflakes occasionally grazing their faces. Flynn let out a few excited woo’s before holding onto the sled base for support. Sven balanced his eyesight between the trail and watching Flynn’s reaction to the ride, very happy that Flynn, too, was happy.

 

Sven took Flynn on the scenic route, overlooking various forests and valleys. Everywhere they looked was what looked to be carefully crafted murals of pure white snow and green pines, still in motion but evoking strong, lively emotions. Animals were rare, but not unseen; there had been a few deer and elk, as well as some snow rabbits that left small, delicate footprints in the snow. These prints were hard to see in detail as they sled along the trails, but could be carefully examined if the two pulled off to the side and looked at them on foot. The pair have done this a few times; Sven would carefully approach the footprint, as to not disturb the fragile snow around it, and look at the imprints of the claws, hooves, paw pads, and toes of the unknown creature in order to correctly identify it. Once he reached a solid answer, he would describe to Flynn any neat facts or personal experiences he had with the animal, much to the awe of Flynn. Afterward, the two would hop back onto the sled and continue their journey.

 

While Sven couldn’t see it, Flynn’s eyes widened at every new sight and sound. The cold was terrible, but the temperature did little to dilute Flynn’s joy and wonder. The avian wished he could communicate this wonder to Sven as they rode, but the noise of the sliding sled made conversing difficult. They could talk once they stopped, of course, but it wouldn’t be the same as talking in the moment. He also wished he could hold Sven's hands or have some sort of physical contact as they rode, but again, nothing much could be done about that. Regardless, he enjoyed the ride he shared with his big wolfish boyfriend.

 

They would also often stop to inspect a lewd-shaped tree or beckoning cave. On two occasions, an animal carcass lay on the side of the trail, causing the sled dogs to become distracted. The sled would weave a little, but would eventually even out and resume its smooth sailing. On another occasion, they passed another dog sled team.

 

At this point in time, they had been sledding for nearly two and a half hours and they were hungry. Sven pulled off into a small clearing densely surrounded by trees and ordered the dogs to stop and rest. Flynn hopped off the sled and stretched before beelining to the nearest bush to piss. Sven, meanwhile, unpacked a small carpet and unrolled it onto the icy ground. The warm tones of the patterned fabric was a stark contrast to the white, powdery snow. It made him yearn for home a little. While the trip was fun, he was starting to miss the comfy confines of his family’s cabin. As he thought about how much he would like a warm cup of corn, he picked up the ice chest from the sled and brought it over onto the carpet. He unpacked two thermoses of hot chocolate, some water bottles, sandwiches, and chips. No corn, sadly, but he’d make do with the warm drinks.

 

“I’m back! I washed my hands with the snow.”

 

Sven turned his head towards Flynn, who apparently took the longest piss in history. “Not the snow you just pissed in, I hope.”

 

“No! Clean snow! I know better than that, silly.” Flynn slipped his gloves back over his shivering hands. He also knew better than to piss using someone else’s gloves. Sven was glad.

 

“Well if you’re done, would you want to join me for some late lunch/early dinner?” invited Sven, motioning towards the carpeted picnic area.

 

“You already know the answer to that,” the smaller man purred. “I’m hungry as hell!” With that, he took off the gloves he just put on moments prior and grabbed a sandwich. Flynn sat down cross-legged and unwrapped his meal, while Sven grabbed a thermos and settled down across from Flynn with his legs outstretched in front of him. He opened his thermos and took a long drink out of it, savoring the warm temperature and sweet taste.

 

“So, uh,” began Flynn between bites. “Are you gonna feed the dogs, or…?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“The dogs. They eat food right?”

 

“Of course they eat food,” Sven replied with a smile. “They ate before leaving. They shouldn’t be hungry yet.”

 

“Oh! Sorry, I knew you wouldn’t let your dogs starve like that.”

 

“No, you’re fine! Thanks for thinking about them though.” Sven motioned towards Flynn with his opened thermos, similar to the ‘cheers!’ motion one would do at a bar. He took another sip before reaching for the other sandwich and unwrapping it.

 

The two ate in silence for a few moments before Flynn spoke up again. “This trip has been a blast! I’ve never seen forests like that before… You really know your way around! I’m surprised you haven’t gotten us lost yet, what with all the snow and identical-looking trees.” Little did Flynn know that he just jinxed the two of them.

 

“The trail is a large circle, so it’s not too easy to get lost. Just don’t wander off the path.”

 

“Still takes a good sense of direction to know that, though,” the avian purred, leaning forward a bit.

 

“Is that your way of flattering me? Complimenting how well my dogs can follow a path?” he asked with a grin. “Because stupid as it sounds, it’s working,” he added in a lower tone as he, like Flynn, leaned forward towards his boyfriend.

 

“Does it now? What do you--” Flynn’s flirty advancements had been cut off with ferocious barking and whining. The two men immediately snapped back into the cold reality and out of their romantic trances to see the dogs jumping and barking at God knows what.

 

Sven quickly rose to his feet and ran to his dogs, while Flynn remained kneeled on the carpet. Sven checked up on each dog; none seemed to be hurt, and they all seemed to still be properly harnessed. After quickly looking at each dog, he looked up and began investigating what they could be barking at. While some of the dogs were barking just for the sake of barking, most seemed to be focused on something beyond the trees. He turned his head, then tilted his body to get a better look at what lay beyond the clearing. Before he could see the creature, he heard its deafening roar: a bear. Specifically, a Kodiak brown bear.

 

“Sven…?” Flynn called out cautiously.

 

Sven turned his head to look at Flynn, then quickly snapped his head back to look at the bear, who was now quite easily visible now that he stood on his hind legs. The bear was around 20 feet away from the dogs and Sven and about 30 feet away from Flynn.

 

Had it just been he and Flynn hiking on the trail, Sven would do as you were supposed to in the event of a bear encounter: face the bear, and walk away slowly. In this instance, however, the dogs agitated the large beast and beckoned him closer. 

 

“Mother fuck,” Sven mumbled under his breath. “Fuck off, bear!” he yelled louder. 

 

The bear roared in response and took another step forward. Sven didn’t know what to expect to happen from yelling at the bear, but he was discouraged at his advancement anyway. The only other method of fending off the bear, it seemed, was for Sven to transform and scare him off. Or fight, but he’d rather not get some nasty bear scares today. He’d rather not transform at all, actually, seeing as he’d have to strip nude in the wilderness of ass-biting cold weather or severely rip his pristine jackets.

 

Against his wishes and better judgment, Sven began stripping off his clothing and putting on a show for the bear. And Flynn too, he supposed, if the avian was even looking at Sven. But he didn’t think about Flynn looking at his ass; he only thought about the bear slowly advancing up to his dogs. The jackets and undergarments hit the ground as Sven shivered his ass right off for a moment, before finally transforming into a beast that could perhaps rival his opponent.

 

Sven gave a warning bark, which didn’t sound too different from the road of the Kodiak bear. In turn, the bear warned back. This bear had some balls. Some big balls too, it seemed, because the closer the bear waddled towards the dogs, the more Sven took in the size of the beast. They were roughly the same height, but the bear had a lot more pounds to pack compared to Sven. Not to mention skill; the bear had been living with its animalistic instincts and physical characteristics for years, hunting and killing for its survival. Sven, on the other hand, didn’t spend too much time in his wolf form and generally never fought as a beast.

 

Flynn must have caught onto Sven’s anxiety. Before today, he believed that his big, beefy boy could handle anything thrown at him. Faced with an obese bear, however, Flynn began to doubt that slightly. He always assumed Sven could take on anyone in the world without a scratch, but now he worried about injuries. Did they bring first aid? Does Sven know how to apply first aid? Does Flynn? What if Sven lost? How would they get home? How--

 

Flynn’s thoughts were interrupted by Sven leaping over the line of dogs and onto the bear. Flynn stood up quickly and ran over to the line of dogs, watching the two giant creatures battle it out. He stood on the tip of his toes, his wings folding in, extending out, and swaying in anxiety and reaction to the fight happening in front of him.

 

Sven and the bear were currently rolling around in the snow clawing each other. Sven originally had the upper hand, as he was the one to initiate the fight by flying through the air and clawing downward onto the bear. He hoped that WWE move would be enough to scare the bear off, but nope! He was wrong. He was tacked to the ground immediately after landing, which led into their current state of downgrade leapfrog. But instead of taking turns hopping over each other’s backs, each one violently slung the other around and pinned them to the ground, before rotating positions again. 

 

This occurred for only a few moments, as the bear, pinning Sven to the ground, finally bit him above the shoulder. As a response, Sven kicked the bear as hard as he could in the gut. The bear relaxed his jaw, freeing Sven from his maw’s grasp. Sven took this small moment to dig his claws into the bear’s nose and eyes, prompting the bear to rise up once again onto his hind legs in agony. Sven slid out from under the bear and stood up as well, swiping at the bear one final time before it ran off in a blind hurry.

 

Almost by instinct, Sven leaned down to stand on all fours to give out a victory roar. Despite being bruised and bloodied, he found the experience to be quite energizing. He felt powerful despite nearly having his ass handed to him by a wild animal. He felt like a king, like he belonged at the top of… something. Top of the world? Sure. Sven left like he belonged at the top of the world. He felt incredibly hungry, too. Not hungry for food, per se, although he hadn’t thoroughly enjoyed his meal with Flynn. He was hungry for something. 

 

He turned to look at Flynn excitedly, but his strong emotions quickly faltered at the sight before him. His dogs were gone, and Flynn stood in the clearing with his hands clenching handfuls of his hair in stress.


	2. Chapter 2

“Flynn. Where are the dogs?” 

 

“They ran off!”

 

“I know they ran off! Where’d they run off to?”

 

Flynn responded by pointing at the fairly obvious trail on the ground that led further into the forest. Sven should have seen it, but he was too surprised about the event to notice the finer details. 

 

Sven transformed back into a human and began to slip his clothes back on, not too worried about his boyfriend seeing his frozen dick. His clothes were covered with snow from being on the ground for so long, and Sven was not happy about it. Wearing half-frozen underwear that would turn soggy in a few minutes was not on his bucket list. In just a few moments, Sven would become a shivering mess, but for the time being, he was still warm from the recent fight.

 

Sven hurried past Flynn and picked up the carpet, allowing anything on top of it to fall to the ground. While folding it, he yelled out, “Kilo! Sus! Bran?” Of course, there was no reply. He began following the trail left behind by the sled, leaving Flynn behind.

 

“Sven?” Flynn called to him. He wasn’t sure if Sven was mad at him or if he was just worried about the dogs... Or worried about their survival-- they were still a ways away from the village and it was fucking cold. Flynn quickly picked up the leftover chips and the thermoses and ran to catch up to Sven.

 

The trail they followed was sporadic; it weaved back and forth, wrapped its way around trees, and even found its way to small creeks. Sven and Flynn followed the trail for what seemed like miles, staying silent aside from calling out names of the various dogs. Sven wanted to stay on focus, while Flynn merely had nothing to converse about… Or willing to converse about at the time. Flynn was cold, and while he tried to stay optimistic, it was becoming increasingly hard to do so. The dogs were gone, along with all of their supplies. Not to mention that the sun is going down as well at… 3:15? The avian still wasn’t used to the short winter days of Alaska. He figured they still had some time before the sun set completely.

 

The two men were following the trail in an empty riverbed when Flynn spotted something in the distance.

 

“Sven, look!” he exclaimed, pointing to a fallen log that leaned against the steep, chest height bank.

 

Sven looked in the direction Flynn pointed in and squinted. “Alright… What am I looking at?”

 

Before Flynn could respond, he quickly hopped over to the scene, his giddiness quickly returning. Sven followed close behind, confused at what made Flynn so excited. It was just a log, nothing to write home about, right?

 

As Sven approached the fallen log, however, he quickly realized that Flynn had actually found their sled. It was upside down and somewhat lodged into the log, but it wouldn’t take long to get it out. They once again had their supplies, despite most of them being damaged and scattered around the area. It appeared as if the dogs lost control of the sled behind them and crashed it into the log, setting the long dog harness free, seeing as the dogs were nowhere in sight. Anxious at the sight before him, Sven collapsed onto his knees in the snow. He was tired, and wet, and hungry, and defeated, and all sorts of bad things. He wanted to find his dogs. He just wanted to go home again.

 

“Sven?” Flynn asked cautiously. “Aren’t you happy? We found the sled!”

 

The wolfish man looked up at the pretty bird with a slight glare, before his expression relaxed. He looked down at the ground below him and said, “The sled doesn’t mean anything if we don’t have the dogs.”

 

“Yeah, but we have some supplies! We can take a short break, get warmed up, have a snack--”

 

“The longer we wait, the farther the dogs run!” Sven lashed out, shooting another glare, this time at the show beneath his legs.

 

Taken aback by this outburst, Flynn struggled to find the right words to articulate his thoughts. “We can’t just-- We need to-- Finding the dogs will be hard if we don’t rest! You’re cold, Sven, look at you!”

 

Sven didn’t take much notice at his current predicament until Flynn pointed it out. Sven was shivering profusely, and the melted ice in his clothing was the main factor. They had been walking for a while now, and he supposed that the concerns he had for his dogs distracted himself from actually paying attention to his body’s needs. He was still hungry from earlier after their lunch date was rudely interrupted by a bear. Sven sighed and tightly hugged the carpet he was still holding. Flynn, meanwhile, took the cap off one of the thermoses and tried handing it to Sven.

 

“Wanna sip?” he asked, a calmer tone taking over.

 

Sven looked up at his boyfriend with guilty eyes and took the thermos from his hands. “Yeah,” he replied before taking a small drink.

 

As Sven experienced his mini breakdown and sipped from his thermos, Flynn worked on dislodging the sled. He dropped the chips and extra thermos he was holding and pulled with all his might in hopes of at least shifting the sled slightly, but it didn’t budge. He changed positions and tried again, and unsurprisingly, it didn’t move an inch. Flynn took a step back from the wooden craft and observed the scene in front of him, trying to work out the best way to dislodge the damn thing and get started on searching for the dogs.

 

One last time, Flynn put his hands on the sled to try dislodging it again, only this time he had some help. Sven reached from behind the weak avian, placing his calloused hands beside the other’s soft and petite ones, and said in a low, quiet voice, “Mind if I help?”

 

Flynn turned his head somewhat to lock eyes with the man behind him and gave a sly smile. “Looks like someone’s feeling better,” he purred.

 

Sven averted his gaze sheepishly and apologized. “Sorry for yelling at you. You’re right. Let’s pull this sled out, yeah?”

 

Flynn smiled and nodded before turning back towards the sled and pulling again. It was a lot easier this time around, with a tall, burly man helping from behind. Had this been a better time, Flynn would’ve pointed out how this could be a spicy scene, but for the time being, he felt warm and safe. With one quick tug, the sled was free and Sven was in a slightly better mood.

 

“Go around and pick up the fallen supplies while I check the sled for damage, please,” said Sven, motioning to the spilled luggage that littered the riverbed. As Flynn hopped away to complete his task, Sven picked up the sled and lifted it over the bank wall, setting it down right-side-up in the snow close to the bank’s edge. He also went back and picked up the dropped carpet, chips, and thermoses and set them near the sled. Hoisting himself over the bank wall, he began inspecting the wooden pieces of the sled for any large damage.

 

Flynn, meanwhile, had picked up the fallen ice cooler and began stacking things inside of it. He picked up an old lantern, two flashlights, and first aid materials, among other things. He dragged the cooler over to the bank Sven sat upon before going back to pick up other small crates that held various items such as some extra clothing or dog food. While working, he hummed to himself, trying to stay optimistic.

 

After a few minutes had passed, most of the supplies had been picked up and were being secured back onto the sled. Flynn still stood in the riverbed, while Sven was crouched on top of the bank working. Flynn leaned against the bank wall, stomach pressed against the rough surface.

 

“Sounds like it’s time for a break,” he cooed.

 

“But we’re so close to finding the dogs, they can’t be far--”

 

“Sven. Look at me.”

 

Sven stopped tying down the recovered supplies and looked down at Flynn, whose head was currently shin level in reference to Sven. “I’m looking?”

 

“You’re cold. I’m cold. We need to take a small break and warm up a bit, or else we’ll get hypothermia or something.”

 

Sven took a moment to observe Flynn and he was devastated to see that the avian had been shivering harder than he had. Flynn seemed pale and tired, and Sven pieced together than Flynn couldn’t pull the sled out on his own earlier due to his body literally freezing up. Sven understood than Flynn was a lot weaker then he was, but at the time he thought it was weird Flynn couldn’t pull the sled out from the tree. Flynn was sensitive to the cold weather, and Sven felt terrible that he didn’t take notice of his decaying health while searching for the dogs. This was supposed to be a fun trip for Flynn, but instead Sven had fought a bear, scared off the dogs, and gotten the two of them stranded in freezing weather.

 

It was hard to admit, but Sven did need a break. He was also cold and tired, and he desperately needed a change of clothes. He wanted to hold Flynn for just a few moments. But at the same time, the sun would set soon. And if the sun set, navigating the dark wilderness without the sled dogs would be a death sentence.

 

Sven shook his head in disagreement to Flynn’s suggestion and stood up, holding out his hand for the bird brain to grab. Flynn took his hand and was hoisted up onto the bank with Sven, who grabbed both of Flynn’s shoulders firmly and told him, “You sit on the sled and rest, I’ll push.”

 

“What? No, you need to rest too!” Flynn exclaimed in defiance.

 

Sven began lightly pushing Flynn in the direction of the front of the sled, hoping he would get seated on his own. “The sun will set soon, and we need to find the dogs before then.”

 

“But we have flashlights! We can see in the dark, we aren’t cavemen,” Flynn joked nervously.

 

Harsher now, Sven pushed Flynn downward onto the sled. Flynn fell and landed among the stored luggage. As Sven looked down at Flynn, he issued his final call. “I’m pushing, and you’re resting. Stop fighting it, this is working in your favor!” He then grabbed the rolled carpet from behind Flynn and haphazardly draped it over him. “You warm up, you’re sensitive to the cold.”

 

Flynn rearranged the carpet around him to get comfier while Sven moved to the back of the sled and began pushing. Flynn, of course, continued to argue about the rearrangement but didn’t dare to get out of the sled. It was warmer under the carpet, and it was nice to not be in constant contact with the snow for once. Besides, he didn’t want to get up and piss off Sven more than he thought he already had. Realizing that he’d never convince Sven to take a break, he resorted to sitting in defeated silence as his boyfriend struggled to push the sled behind him.

 

Sven was definitely strong enough to push the sled with Flynn on it, though the problem was that the sled was designed to be pulled, not pushed. Pushing from the handholds at the top of the sled only made the structure bend abnormally and dig into the snow, and while pushing from the bottom of the sled yielded better results, it hurt Sven’s back to do so. He considered tying himself to the front of the sled and pulling, though they didn’t have any extra rope... right?

 

Sven had pushed the sled only a few yards before stopping to search through their supplies. He moved his arms around Flynn, who was currently sipping from his thermos again, to search through various crates and crevices.

 

“Hey, you can say ‘excuse me,’ you know!” Flynn warned Sven. He thought being treated like another stored crate was a little rude.

 

Sven mumbled a quick apology before letting out a short, excited whoop. He found the extra rope, though it was a little tangled from when the dogs crashed the sled. He tossed one end to Flynn, saying “Here, untangle this.”

 

Flynn did as he was asked. “Why? What’s the rope for?”

 

“For our salvation, duh.” Sven joked in response. “I’m gonna use it to tug the sled. It was made to be pulled, not pushed.”

 

“Oh! Are you gonna be my own personal sled dog?” he cooed in response. “Mush!”

 

Sven stopped untangling his side of the rope to shoot Flynn a quick glare. “You compare me to a sled dog again and I’ll tie you up and make you tug the damn sled.” He was afraid Flynn took his mock seriousness the wrong way, but before he could apologize, Flynn quickly replied.

 

“Oh, but you’d like that though, right?” he asked in a cheerful tone. “Me being tied up.”

 

Sven quickly developed a red face, surprised at Flynn’s comment. He smiled sheepishly, before looking away and quickly untying his end of the rope completely.

 

Flynn giggled. “I’m sorry, you can’t just say something like that and expect me not to make it suggestive.”

 

“Let’s just tie me up for now, yeah?” he smiled. “It really sounds like Vaughn’s rubbing off on you.”

 

The two of them giggled, forgetting that only a few minutes ago they were fighting. It seemed that the two of them couldn’t be angry at each other for long; Sven was too forgiving, and Flynn was too optimistic. And neither of them really wanted to stay pissed at each other anyways-- they got into the occasional fight, but ultimately they loved each other.

 

As Flynn finished untying his side of the rope, Sven began draping the rope around his torso and shoulders and tying the ends to the sled base, making a rudimentary lead for him to pull against. He was a little proud of his idea, though he still felt a bit embarrassed about it. Big dog man pulls a dog sled, how dehumanizing! (Though he had to admit, it was a little funny.)

 

Sven began moving the sled and found that pulling from the front was significantly easier than pushing from the back. His feet dug into the snow as he tugged and it hurt his legs somewhat, but the awkward pulling motion he was doing now was a lot easier on the back than the awkward pushing motion he was doing earlier.

 

And so Sven pulled the sled for a long distance, following the footprint trail his runaway dogs left behind. He wanted to stay hopeful, seeing that they had already found the sled and they were on the right track for finding the dogs, but there were a lot of things that were not going to work in their favor. To begin, the sun had just set behind the mountains and it was getting progressively darker now, despite it being only 4:00 in the afternoon. They had two flashlights in storage, though Sven figured it would still be a pain to navigate the near pitch black outdoors using those. The lack of sight wasn’t the biggest issue with the night, either. With the sun absent from the sky, the temperature would drop significantly. The two men were already cold as is, and Sven figured being stuck out in the snow all night would only result in injury or worse. Sven was certain he had the beginning of frostbite at his ankles, and he was afraid of Flynn showing signs of hypothermia.

 

Sven felt incredibly guilty. He has brought his boyfriend into a setting he wasn’t well adapted for, promising that he’d keep them safe and everything would be fine. But instead, everything that could have gone wrong went wrong. Sure, they found the sled, but that didn’t make up for losing the sled in the first place. Sven hoped that Flynn would forgive him once they got home… If they ever got home.

 

If they were going to make it through to the next morning, Sven figured, they would have to find a shelter to spend the night in. He wasn’t too fond of the idea, as he was afraid of losing the dogs’ trail during a surprise snowfall during the night, but he felt like he didn’t have much choice. Their survival was more important than finding the dogs at the moment.

 

As the last remnants of the sun’s light began to fade away, the two men found that the dogs’ trail crossed over a small road. Sven pulled the sled to a stop and talked to Flynn.

 

“I think we should follow this road and see if it leads anywhere,” he began. “We aren’t going to make it too far into the night at this temperature.”

 

“I’m all for taking a break, but what about the dogs?”

 

“The dogs are important for getting back home, but I think protecting ourselves from the cold is more important.” Sven believed that if Flynn wasn’t here with him, he’d continue searching for the dogs into the night by himself. He cared a lot more about Flynn’s wellbeing than his own.

 

Flynn gave off a half smile before replying. “I guess so… Will we keep looking in the morning?”

 

“I guess we’ll have to. They’re currently our only way home.” Sven then began searching through their storage again to find the flashlights.

 

“Where do you think this road leads?” Flynn asked.

 

As Sven handed Flynn one of the flashlights, he replied, “Hopefully there’s a house or barn or something attached to the road. It’s better than searching for shelter by wandering aimlessly off the beaten trail.”

Flynn turned on his flashlight and immediately shined it into his eyes. “Ow,” he flinched.

 

Sven laughed lightly. “Aren’t the sharpest tool in the shed, eh?”

 

Flynn glared and gave him a mischievous smirk before flashing Sven’s eyes.

 

“Ow, you dick!” Sven laughed before he turned on his flashlight and flashed Flynn back. The two of them flashed each other a few more times before Sven called off the mini battle and pulled out a spare pair of sweats from storage.

 

“You changing pants right now? In the middle of the road?” asked Flynn in an accusatory tone.

 

“No!” Sven replied defensively. “I’m marking off this location so we can return here tomorrow and continue following the trail.” He dragged the sled over to a nearby tree and tied one of the sweatpant legs to a low hanging branch, making for a makeshift flag whose waving could be seen from a distance.

 

Once he set up the flag, Sven began pulling the sled again. The road was only partially covered by snow, and the exposed asphalt made awful noises as the sled rode over it. Sven and Flynn inwardly cringed each time the scraping noise occurred.

 

“Do you have to ride directly on the road?” Flynn yelled over the cacophony. “It might be a little easier on the ears if you follow the road on the side… Smoother too! It’s a little bumpy back here.”

 

Silence hung in the air for a moment before Sven replied. “You’re right!” he yelled behind him. He then shifted over slightly and pulled the sled along the snowy surface rather than the rocky one. He figured that maybe the cold was finally getting to his head, and he was making obvious oversights. With this thought, he moved a little faster.

 

The two men used their flashlights to light the way ahead of them, following the road for nearly half an hour. The journey was eventless and boring, aside from Flynn shining his flashlight at anything that moved in the trees. Sven was used to the darkness, but he understood why Flynn might be a little scared. Besides, Flynn’s small screams and questions of “Who’s there?” we’re kind of cute. They eventually stumbled upon a rusty gate.

 

Sven shined his flashlight past the metal entryway and found that a short trail led beyond it.

 

“This looks promising,” he told Flynn, pushing open the gate and tugging the sled inside. Flynn didn’t respond.

 

Sven took their small caravan along the small trail and found themselves at the large barn doors of what looked to be an abandoned farmhouse. “This is lookin’ pretty good!” Sven exclaimed. Again, Flynn didn’t respond.

 

Sven pushed open the doors and called out, “Hello? Anyone there?”

 

At the lack of reply, Sven took that as an invitation to bring the sled inside. It wasn’t warm in the slightest inside of the farmhouse, but the shelter protected them from the harsh breeze outside. When he got the entirety of the sled inside of the farmhouse, Sven slipped off his makeshift harness and walked to close the barn doors behind them.

 

“Isn’t this great, Flynn? There’s no snow in here, it’s amazing.” When Flynn didn’t reply, Sven grew worried. “...Flynn?”

 

Sven walked over to the sled and found Flynn passed out under the carpet. “Flynn?” he questioned again, voice growing louder. “Flynn!” He began shaking Flynn roughly in an attempt to wake him up.

 

And his attempt worked, as Flynn violently jolted awake. “Jesus, Sven!” he yelled. “What’s the matter?”

 

“Holy shit, you’re alive?”

 

“Was I dead?!”

 

“You had your eyes closed and you weren’t talking so I just… assumed the worst?”

 

Flynn stared at his boyfriend blankly before erupting into laughter. “I was asleep, dummy! The ride got boring, and it was dark, and I was cold--”

 

“You don’t go to sleep when you’re freezing!” Sven warned. “What if you never woke up?”

 

“Aw, do you care about me?” Flynn cooed. “Haha, it seems like you might have a crush on me!”

 

Sven’s worried expression quickly fell into a deadpan. “We’ve been dating for two months now. Of course I like you!”

 

“Aww, you like me,” the avian cooed again, playfully tapping Sven on the nose.

 

Sven gave a weak smile. “Are you sure you’re okay? You can see fine, move fine… feel numb anywhere?”

 

“I’m a little woozy, but that’s okay! It’s getting late, anyway.”

 

“It’s only…” Sven pulled out his phone, “... 4:45.”

 

“Wait, you brought your phone? Why don’t you just call for a ride?”

 

“Flynn. We’re in the middle of nowhere, there’s no reception here. Maybe it’s time for you to warm up and rest?” Sven pulled the carpet off Flynn and lifted him up from the sled. He carried the bird over to a messy pile of hay and gently laid him down before returning to the sled.

 

“Come lay with me, Sven!” Flynn yelled from across the farmhouse.

 

“One sec, you needy bird,” Sven replied, grabbing any leftover clothing from the sled’s storage. He also grabbed the carpet before making his way back to his boyfriend. He threw the clothing on top of Flynn, before also draping the carpet back over him. Sven then began undressing.

 

“A show? Just for me? You shouldn’t have!”

 

“Jesus Flynn, you’re sounding a little out of it. You hit your head, too?”

 

“Naw, I’m really into it!”

 

“Either you’ve been hanging out with Vaughn too much, or you have a thing for life or death situations,” he joked. 

 

“Why not both?”

 

“If you keep talking, I’m not gonna lay with you. Now close your eyes, I don’t want you to see my frozen schlong.”

 

Flynn covered his head with the carpet as Sven took off the final pieces of clothing and transformed back into a wolf. “Alright, you can look now.”

 

Flynn squealed with excitement as Sven walked over and positioned himself around Flynn to keep him warm. He functioned as a sort of big teddy bear, and he hoped that his fur would keep himself warm, and over time his body heat would transfer to Flynn.

 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Sven asked, his worried tone coming back again.

 

“I’m fine, you big doof! Now let me sleep--”

 

“Please don’t fall asleep,” Sven practically begged. “Let’s stay conscious and cuddle?”

 

Flynn snuggled close to Sven’s fluffy chest and talked into it. “Sure. Just for you.”

 

And so the two of them held each other tight and conversed as they waited for the sun to emerge again.


End file.
